Springfield daily republic. [volume] (Springfield, O. [Ohio]) 1887-1888, 1887-09-10

| lace tnat StTlhtS lie with u stIsc vi
familiarity, or at least Of previous &C
quaintance. | cannot guess. But even In
these dubious half lights am persuaded
that some reminiscence should answer &c
the impression thus created. Only-it
fails to do so.
Doctor Eastlakc family means.
well. my lad'' | respond.
Tell me plainly. Have | a chances"
Il decidedly hope So" l reply evas
lively.
And hope isn't expectation" he says,
| with a curious smile.
am silent. l dare not equivocate in
such case rs this; and recognize. too,
| that though but private soldier. East
leigh is a man Of education and quick to
seize the meaning of accents as well as OF
words.
Il take it, you and l form the same
! opinion, doctor" he says, between two
terrible paroxysms Of pain; and the
world won't lose much if | do go; but
! butt wish You would do ME a favor.
can depend on you;"
Anything that Is in my power, East
leigh
I've father living in England, and
he and quarreled was to blame
|
! this day | robbed him. l didn't; it was
my cousin Dick. Find him and tell him
| that The address
| But the eNertion is too much; the pa
tient elapscs into Inconsistencies, and is
restored with difficulty. forbid further
| talk
Il quite understand what II is that you
wish Of me, and will do rs you request, "
| say. The address | shall find, If l re-
quire il, with your kit. l hope it will be
unnecessary for me to search, and that
you'll live TO explain to your father face
to face. Now, silence! Dickson will
watch. and send for me if wanted. And
l so out into the darkness of the plain,
and muse over a solitary cigar until Joined
| by a couple of regimental comrades.
| cannot forget the face of the wounded sol
dier.
In describing the third of these mental
! pictures. must explain that I am now
no longer half n civilian and half n sol
| dier. Military stations and barrack hos
| pitals know me no more. A slender in
! heritance has come TO me from dear old
| maiden aunt the cheer OF whose gentle
encoursgements would TO this day rather
! have had than her money, and with it |
have bought a partnership with an old
| college friend of my fathers. DIR. Hid
reth has treated me generously, for the
sake of auld lang syne: he and his wife
they have no children-are delightful
| people; and Great Gamble is quaint,
well behaved East Anglican town, with
! many another numerous incongruity
about it beside that Of its name. Exist
enCe here is humdrum-granted. But
am content-mOre than content, since l
have been honored with the friendship Of
| Mrs. Bristowe. Margaret-she is Mrs.
Hildreth's kinswoman, many degrees re
| moved, and thus have learned the name
| is a widow, and had heard her sad and
romantic story before / met her. Her
| husband bore that title scarce an hour;
| he fell in fit at the brides feet rs he
| was leaving the church door, and was n
dead man before suCcor could arrive
| The medical evidence showed that he was
| the victim of heart disease, to which the
excitement of the day and the hour had
! administered a fatal impetus. So grievous
a shock would abundantly account for the
gravity which seems a marked feature OF
Mrs. BristOwe's character. Not that She
is gloomy; her age fortids that, for she is
Young stIll-not five and twenty. Mrs
Hildreth says-and youth has n recuper-
alive power which will struggle back to
the sunshine however crushed by sorrow.
Yet there is a seriousness in her mirth.
At least think SO, and it suits well with
! her stately beauty.
The current OF an emotion which
recognize as love Eurries me on. viii
Mrs. BriStowe consent To be my wife, l
propose to put the question TO the test
this very evening. II may be that / shall
end the present narrative with Margaret 5
reply.
Now for my third reverie picture. The
scene is metropolitan railway station.
The place is thronged with very various
sorts and conditions of men, for detach-
ments of the brave fellows who marched
to relieve Gordon-and, alas, marched in
vain-are arriving. and the London crowd
is there to welcome them. l am ten min
utes early for the train l wish TO
catch, and the departure platform
seems almost deserted, by compari-
son with the stir and hustle else
where. l stand idly by. and watch body
of the bronzed heroes file past on the Op-
posite side Of the narrow cutting. Those
round ME set up cheer, in which / hesi-
tate to join: for do l not belong TO those
who are the subjects of the ovation,
Their dangers and privations l have
shared. l am not quite alone in my
silence. There is at my left hand an old
man, who stands rigid as u statue, but
with eyes blazing with a strange, fiery
eagernesS. as the men gather into military
order and tramp away through the station
gates in the track of their earlier COM
rades; and hanging upon his arm is q
woman in black, thickly yeiled
Perhaps il was a mistake, and it was
some one like John at IA little distance
but not John himself" says the father, as
instantly elect TO believe him. The tones
have in them such n depth Of sadness and
vain regret that l unconsciously fall to
studying the speakers face. 1t is a
striking and noble one, though there are
signs that both pride and passion have
done work thereupon with their ruthless
craving tools. As | watch there comes
10 me the conviction that these Inca
Inents are not wholly strange; yet | am
tafiied To discover any basis for the curl
ols fancy of familiarity.
His companion murmurs something
which the shrek of a whistle causes me
to lose tas if ! had the remotest right to
play the eavcsdroprerl.
'Ah, John! Can he not trust me to
forgive him everything" the old man an
swers.
This is your train, sir. Any luggage"
] sauntcr lesurely OFT in the rear OF the
porter | have tipped, and the episode
scarce worthy Of such a designation-is
at an end. But that fragment of conver
sation comes back at this hour as if it
We're even now ringing i'll my ears and l
am trying To account for the enduring ma
ture Of these recouections as l weave
them together.
l paused at the preceding paragraph
three hours ago, and took my hat and
overcoat-for it is a stormy October night
and went 10 Mostyn. as the Hidreth's
home is called. Mrs Brstowe's visit